There are no descriptions of Jesus. Have you ever wondered about that? For a person of such renown you would think that someone, somewhere, would have remarked about his appearance. But no.

There were plenty of pictures being made around in the time of Jesus. Frescoes, mosaics, paintings on wood and parchment, and random graffiti scratched on walls. But none of Jesus.

There are those who view the absence of any kind of physical record as evidence that Jesus never really existed. That Jesus is a projection of people’s dependency on divine intervention or mythical heroes to get through life. Or, evidence of an unfortunate inability to sort out what is real and true from what is fluff and nonsense.

This nothing new. There’s a first century Roman graffito scratched in plaster, of a crucified figure with a donkey’s head and a man in a posture of devotion. The inscription reads, “Alexandros worshiping his god.” The inference is clear. Alexandros, a Christian, was being ridiculed for believing the message of Jesus. Crucifixion was the gravest indignity, and what kind of idiot would worship such a god as that?

Who indeed? Jesus is perplexing, it’s true. He just wouldn’t follow the script that people kept trying to prepare for him. From the outset of his work, he caused consternation and confusion.

It’s certainly the situation in the gospel today. Jesus was in his home town. People welcomed him. He’d read the scroll of Isaiah. About being anointed by the Spirit. About speaking good news to the poor, freeing prisoners, restoring vision to the blind, setting the oppressed free, announcing a jubilee year. Their very own prophet! What’s not to like?

But things quickly unraveled. If we could pick the particular moment, it seems to be when the people were …”amazed at his gracious words.” Amazed is a flexible word especially in Greek, with both positive and negative meanings. It seems that the gracious words Jesus spoke were not received with equal enthusiasm by all who were present.

The peoples’ comment, “Is not this Joseph’s son?” is a matter of tone. For some it was an expression of pride. For others it was a way to humble and possess him.

What Jesus said next is a clever response to either tone. He suggested that they were going to be pretty disappointed. Prophets soon fall out of favor among their own people.

Jeremiah would have us know that prophecy is a burden, not a privilege. A true prophet doesn’t play to the masses. Isn’t owned by anyone. Has an exclusive contract with God. Is sent as God sees fit, to speak God’s word. It isn’t personal. It’s just business. Holy business.

Jesus cited the prophets Elijah and Elisha being sent by God to help people of great faith. Who were hungry; who needed healing. Which is lovely. Except that they happened to not be Jews.

The people of Nazareth were stunned. Their hero, their man of the year, sent by God to serve their interests, declines their awards and honors, refuses their hospitality? The crowd turned ugly. Like when the star player sends the ball into their own net or goal. Yaaay! Then, Nooooo!

And so, they tried to kill him. A flash mob bent on destruction swallowed up Jesus and carried him to the top of a cliff. And for what? For bringing some good news?

Perhaps people began to realize that Jesus was not going to stay and do good things for them, God’s own elite and elect. And this didn’t set well. They wanted to own Jesus, not be taught by him. A failing that’s still sadly common in faith communities – the very people who claim Jesus as their prophet, their brother, their Lord and Savior.

Paul the apostle later reflected at length on what Jesus came to say. The language of Jesus, his whole vocabulary (every word, Jesus insisted, was straight from God), was love. Every single thing Jesus did was in the context of gracious, empathetic love.

According to Jesus anyone who truly speaks or acts for God will necessarily be motivated by such love. All thoughts conditioned by such love. All acts initiated by such love. Love that seeks to set free, not enslave. Love that enriches rather than impoverishes.

Gracious love is carried within, and administered by, community. Because, it’s not personal. It’s just business. The business of God’s people. Inconvenient, idiotic, costly; gracious love whether deserved or not.

In his own hometown people tried to kill Jesus that day. But Jesus got away. How? It’s not clear. Was it a miracle as some think? Or maybe that Jesus didn’t have the kind of face that people found memorable, so he faded into the frenzy.

But you have to wonder. People who believe themselves to be the elite and elect often aren’t so good at looking and thinking outwardly. Not so inclined to share the love.

Inwardness, however, can get way more toxic. Army Psychiatrist Captain Gustave Gilbert was assigned to the Nuremburg Trials after WWII. He shared his opinion that evil is the absence of empathy – the ability to feel with others.

Jesus’s escape from the murderous crowd in Nazareth didn’t need to be a miracle. All that was needed was basic empathy on the part of someone in that crowd. Someone who, moved by common humanity, made a way for Jesus to go. Which is as good a way as any, to sum up how a Christian is called to live and act in this world, right?