Local boy makes good: our natural tendency to envy hometown heroes can make it difficult to see that God gets to decide whom to bless.

"YOU'LL NEVER GUESS WHO CAME TO TOWN LAST week!" Margaret exclaimed as she burst through my front door.

"Who?" I asked. Margaret lives in a nearby university town where interesting people are more likely to surface.

"It was B.!" she shouted triumphantly. "Our long-lost friend B." Margaret was kidding--not about B. coming to town, but certainly about him being a friend of ours. We both remembered B. as he was years ago: a lazy, self-important young man who sincerely believed he was God's gift to Planet Earth. He had a predictable way of taking over every conversation and turning it into a platform for his own tiresome ideas. We used to groan and roll our eyes the minute he came into view. But there was no convincing B. that he wasn't born to greatness. His parents had raised him to believe he was a walking miracle--and they had the money to buy him all manner of success, which didn't hurt.

"And he's Dr. B. now," Margaret sighed, unrolling a newspaper. "With his picture in the paper and a lecture circuit underway."

"What's his doctorate in--Thinkology, do you suppose?" I asked, rolling up the newspaper and pointing it at my head, diploma-style, in imitation of the Scarecrow in The Wizard of Oz.

"Who knows?" Margaret shrugged. "But one thing's for sure: He hasn't changed much. He spoke at the university Friday, and there he was onstage, expounding his opinions the same as always, only now he's got an Ivy League degree and a microphone. He'll be unstoppable!"

For the rest of the day I felt annoyance every time I thought of that picture of B. in the paper. Could people really be taken in by a superficial character like him? How could an undeserving person like B. achieve such success? I remembered my parents lamenting the election of the mayor in our hometown, who happened to be an old high school classmate of theirs. Or how coworkers howled when one of our number became head of the department. Maybe it's human nature to presume the worst of our peers. Our imagination doesn't admit the possibility that some among us could have a spark of greatness.

Or maybe it's envy that makes us think badly of those who rise above us in worldly stature. It was easy to believe that B.'s parents bought him his credentials, because I knew he rarely studied back in the day. But as much as I hate to admit it, the truth is B. didn't study because he was bored--he was undeniably smarter than some of his professors. It's possible that, once challenged by his studies in advanced programs, he applied himself and became a man worth listening to.

We tend to put those who are familiar to us into a box, assign them predictable characteristics, and attach that label for keeps. Rarely do we reassess our evaluation and give others permission to grow and to surprise us. Who knows, B. may turn out to be the walking solution to the world's problems. I'm in no position to judge. But the problem is I'd still like to judge, and that itch doesn't go away.

OF COURSE, THE STUBBORNNESS OF THAT ITCH HELPS US recognize the dilemma of the folks in Nazareth in Luke's early stories. These people grew up with Jesus and pegged him from the start as one of their own. Familiarity breeds a certain amount of contempt, and these people had Jesus' number, or so they liked to think. When Joseph's son returned to their synagogue after dazzling the whole region of Galilee, we can imagine the reception the Nazarenes were prepared to give. Arms folded, hearts closed, they silently dared him to wow them.

What's worse, Jesus did wow them with gracious words that were undeniable. They were impressed despite themselves, and this only made them more resentful. Who does this guy think he is? He may be "Jesus Christ Superstar" in Capernaum, but he's just the carpenter's son here. He better not try to tell us he knows something we don't.

But the message Jesus came to give just got more challenging. He reminded his hometown community that the prophets Elijah and Elisha could do nothing for the citizens of their own generation because of Israel's lack of faith. They were forced to take God's blessings to a widow in Sidon and a general from Syria.

That did it. Nobody in Nazareth wanted to hear about God's blessings being exported, even if it was in the biblical record. Sidon was a seaport in Phoenicia, near modern Beirut. The people there were "Canaanites," always a bad word in the Bible. The fact that Sidon was a more prosperous area just made it harder to bear that God's prophet would bless somebody there while Israel suffered from drought.

And how about that Syrian general Naaman, who got cured of leprosy? Hadn't he just finished attacking Israel and carting off loot and prisoners when God decided to heal him? Why would a prophet of Israel bring God's blessings to an enemy like Naaman? No two ways about it: Jesus was using their own history to warn the citizens of Nazareth that God's blessing didn't belong to them by fiat. God could take that blessing and bestow it on anyone at all, even folks they regarded as totally undeserving and unworthy. The bottom line is God's blessing belongs to God.

SO MAYBE, JUST MAYBE, GOD IS BLESSING B. TODAY, EVEN though that might seem a terrible idea in my (admittedly limited) estimation. And maybe God is blessing other adversaries of yours and mine that we can't bear to contemplate. We hope for God's blessing on our nation, our church, and our personal endeavors. We may also secretly hope for God's wrath to descend on our enemies--but we play a dangerous game if we do. Because God has pledged the divine blessing to the one who follows the way of justice and peace. Those who say, "Lord, Lord" may sound like they are on God's side, but that's God's to judge.

It may seem strange to begin the New Year reflecting on such an uncomfortable message, but Luke chose to jumpstart the ministry of Jesus with this disquieting teaching. God will not be controlled, not by bumper stickers and billboards claiming his favor, nor by sincere patriotism and prayers. We want God on our side, but God is eternally on the side of righteousness, defined in the Old Testament as a sacrificial concern for the poor and the lowly, and in the New Testament as love for the neighbor, the stranger, and the enemy. If we would exclude our enemies from God's blessings, we risk losing that bounty ourselves.

WE MIGHT PREFER NOT TO BE IDENTIFIED WITH NAZARETH in this instance, but we Christians are the hometown team where Jesus is concerned. These days, the issue facing "Nazareth" doesn't involve Phoenicians and Syrians but migrant populations in our midst. Some of these neighbors of ours are legally present in this country. Others have broken human laws to get here, but throw themselves on the law of God and the mercy of their fellow Christians for the right to work a full day for a just wage, to feed their children, and to provide a hopeful future for their families. Maybe the answer lies in fixing the governments of the places they come from, and maybe part of the answer lies in being honest about how many of our industries and services rely on their cheap labor.

But it does no good to deny their right to God's blessings. The bounty of the Lord knows no nationality, politics, or religious affiliation. If we want to be sure to participate in that blessing ourselves, we need to be sure we're on the right side of God's justice.

By ALICE CAMILLE, author of Invitation to the New Testament and Invitation to the Old Testament, both from ACTA Publications.