He left that place and came to his hometown, and his disciples followed him. On the Sabbath he began to teach in the synagogue, and many who heard him were astounded. They said, “Where did this man get all this? What is this wisdom that has been given to him? What deeds of power are being done by his hands! Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary and brother of James and Joses and Judas and Simon, and are not his sisters here with us?” And they took offense at him. Then Jesus said to them, “Prophets are not without honor, except in their hometown, and among their own kin, and in their own house.” And he could do no deed of power there, except that he laid his hands on a few sick people and cured them. And he was amazed at their unbelief.
Then he went about among the villages teaching. He called the twelve and began to send them out two by two, and gave them authority over the unclean spirits. He ordered them to take nothing for their journey except a staff; no bread, no bag, no money in their belts; but to wear sandals and not to put on two tunics. He said to them, “Wherever you enter a house, stay there until you leave the place. If any place will not welcome you and they refuse to hear you, as you leave, shake off the dust that is on your feet as a testimony against them.” So they went out and proclaimed that all should repent. They cast out many demons, and anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them.
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Thanks be to God.
We all have to figure out in our own ways where HOME is, and what that means for us. How are you the same little kid that grew up wherever and however you grew up? And how are you, as we grow older, maybe move, maybe make some decisions, how are we quite different? An important part of our identity is sorting out the relationship between all these things, bound in love and loss. I was at the Outer Banks week before last with my wife’s family, and we made friends with locals who were trying to preserve some of the history of the original stretch of homes on Nags Head. They spoke of their concern that the new people coming in building fancy homes wouldn’t care for the place like they cared for it. We tend to be unsure of people not our own kin, not our own kind, who aren’t from the same place, which means often something resembling trusting they care about the same things you care about. My wife often makes fun of how my southern accent dips a little more when we go back to Black Mountain. Perhaps I don’t want to seem to have forgotten where I came from, where HOME truly is.Read more....