“What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth?” That question posed at the synagogue in Capernaum is one we all have probably repeated at one time or another when we feel challenged by the words of Jesus. We’re trying to make it as best we can. We want to be decent people. We strive to get along with everyone. What have you to do with the likes of us, Jesus? How can we heed your message to forgive seventy times seven times when that just opens us up to more hurt? How many more times will our cheek get slapped if we turn the other cheek? How can we forgive our enemies and do good to those who hate us when we live in Chicago? What are you asking when you say “Go, sell what you have, give to the poor, and come follow me?” That would just make me one of the poor. We’re just ordinary people, not saints or martyrs. What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth?
Bear in mind, Church, that the question is a diabolical one – it is the man with the unclean spirit who asks “what have you to do with us? The question is diabolical because it stems from a desire to control, to keep up the illusion that I am in charge of my own life. If I can somehow or other figure out what Jesus wants than I can keep that over there and live the rest of my life over here. We are tempted to treat Jesus kind of like the way we treat the IRS – I’ll give you, Jesus, what I have to and keep the rest for myself. We can tell that is a temptation straight from the devil because it seeks to separate us from our essential unity with God. It is the nature of the devil, of the diabolical, to divide, to separate, to pull apart. You can hear di-vide, di-vision in di-abolical. But we are made to be whole, to be together. Remember how Jesus presented the Great Commandment? You shall love the Lord, your God, with your whole heart, your whole soul, your whole mind. We are supposed to be whole, not pulled apart. That is why the only answer to the question “what have you to do with us?” is the one that Jesus gave to the man in the synagogue. “Quiet.” Be quiet. You are asking the wrong question. You are looking at things upside down.
Well, what is the right question? Think back on the stories we heard about the call of the first disciples the past few weeks. Do you remember the question they asked when the first met Jesus? “Where are you staying?” They wanted to get together, to be with Jesus, to hang out. The right question is the one which pulls together, not tears apart. When Jesus called the two sets of brothers – Peter and Andrew, James and John – they didn’t present their resume; they didn’t look at the job description; they didn’t ask about the benefits package. No, they simply followed him. They wanted to be with Jesus. The diabolic voice says “You have come to destroy us.” You have come to disturb our nice, tidy existence. You have come to shake up our world. To which Jesus responds: “Quiet!” Get over yourself and come follow me. Find the peace, joy and serenity that you yearn for. I would like you to be free of anxieties. I have come that you might have life and have it to the full.
To get to the right question it helps to remember that, etymologically, the opposite of the diabolic is the symbolic. The diabolic tears apart. The symbolic puts together: sym-pathy, to suffer with; sym-biosis, to live with. The symbols the Church uses are all designed to help us uncover the unity, the oneness, the togetherness between God and creation. Passing through the waters of baptism pulls us together as the family of God. Breaking the bread and sharing the cup of the Eucharist joins earth and heaven together around the heavenly banqueting table. The hands of blessing laid on another connect us with the divine grace that flows through it all. The right question, therefore, is that which will pull things together, will discover the unity that exists at the core of things instead of producing separations. By one count there are over 3,300 questions raised in the Bible. Which is the one that we need to address to make that connection with Jesus?
The question the rich, young man asked is as good one: “What must I do to attain eternal life?” That question invites us to wholeness. Or how about the question that St. Paul asked when he was knocked down on the road to the Damascus? “Who are you, Lord?” The response to that question showed that we are all brothers and sisters in the Lord. The question Elizabeth addressed to Mary is also worth contemplating: “Who am I that you should come to me?” Who am I that God would want to connect me into a divine relationship. All good questions and many more besides. But one question stands out for me. It is the one the disciples asked as they gathered around the table of the Last Supper: “Is it I, Lord?” Is it I, Lord, who is supposed to bring some hope and consolation to my family as they are going through this difficult time? Is it I, Lord, who should find a way to reach out into the neighborhood to create some solidarity among people who are feeling alone and isolated? Is it I, Lord, who can give of my time and talent to help those who are poor and abandoned? Jesus came to draw us into the life of the Trinity, the life of a God whose nature is relationship, the life of God who is love. When we feel the connection we have with Jesus in a personal way then we respond by seeking those other connections, those other relationships that unite us to one another and to God. Jesus invites us to join with him so that all may be one — one in peace, one in joy, one in love.
