Mr. Potato Head

They rose up, drove him out of the town,and led him to the brow of the hillon which their town had been built,to hurl him down headlong.

Mr. Potato Head was one of my favorite toys as a child. For those who may not know, Mr. Potato Head was a lump of brown plastic about the size of your fist. It came with all kinds of attachable accessories, noses, eyes, ears, eyebrows, mouths, mustaches made of felt, hats and bodies. The fun was in putting it all together, of assembling faces and personalities for Mr. Potato Head by combining and re-combining the various components. Now he can be a cowboy, now a construction worker, now a business man, a doctor. You could even buy complimentary parts and create a Mrs. Potato Head. And of course, part of the fun was combining parts that didn’t go together, a cowboy hat with a Mrs. Potato Head mouth. There were also offspring of the Potato family, a boy named Spud and a girl named Sister Yam all of whom came with accessories that included a car, a boat trailer, a kitchen set, a stroller, and pets called Spud-ettes. Later characters included Oscar the Orange and Pete the Pepper as well as Mr. Carrot Head and Mr. Onion Head.

Another supposed feature of Mr. Potato Head was that you could use the various parts on a real potato. My mother was constantly encouraging me to try this, but I have to say that the real potato just didn’t cut it for me. Unlike the brown plastic potato, a real potato wasn’t designed to take the components. The faces looked irregular, the noses didn’t quite fit. And of course, there were little warts and scars on a real potato that gave Mr. Potato Head too realistic a look, too rugged, too ragged.

Lest you think that my regression to childhood memory is indicative of the onset of senility, it seems to me that the problem presented in today’s Gospel is a kind of Potato Head problem.

They rose up, drove him out of the town,and led him to the brow of the hillon which their town had been built,to hurl him down headlong.

I don’t really feel sorry for Jesus in the Gospel today so much as I feel sorry for the folks at Nazareth. He must have known what the reaction of those hometown folks would be. Whereas they must have thought that they were going to town that day for a festive homecoming, a grand celebration, Mary’s fried chicken, everybody hugging and kissing, the sermon in the local synagogue

Hometown boy makes good. Miracles follow his every step. Cheering crowds. Perhaps? Perhaps even something more. The newspapers were there, the cameras were there, the reporters.

But it was not to be.

They rose up, drove him out of the town,and led him to the brow of the hillon which their town had been built,to hurl him down headlong.

Why?

It was a Potato Head problem.

The folks at Nazareth looked upon Jesus like a Mr Potato Head, something to be crafted and re-crafted in their image. Jesus might be a hero, he might be a prophet, he might even be (shhhh) the Messiah, but he was going to be that on their terms. They wanted to determine what eyes he was to have, what ears, what hat he was to wear and they are disappointed when Jesus sets the terms of their play at something of higher pitch. He was a real potato.

For 30 years He was just Jesus
He was just the carpenter and the son of a carpenter
He was just the boy of Mary and Joseph
Just a hometown boy
Just a hardworking man
Just and good and upright man
Just a plain fellow
Just a craftsman
Just a simple man
Just an uncomplicated man
Just a man of prayer
Just a man who kept to himself
Just the guy from Nazareth
Just Jesus

And they liked that
Now the stakes have been raised and Jesus is taking control
Now the chosen people may have to mix with the rest
Now the law and the prophets may take a back seat to a new law
And what is that Law
The Law of Love

Patience and kindness and humility and self control are the new rules of the game and the Potato Head of their creation is somehow no longer adequate. And so …

They rose up, drove him out of the town,and led him to the brow of the hillon which their town had been built,to hurl him down headlong.

Of course what was true of them is true of us
We like to create god in our image, giving him the features we find pleasing or amusing, changing eyes and ears and noses when necessary and worshiping him in plastic form. We like Deus Potatatus because we can control him, manipulate him and when we are tired of him, throw him in a box.

But fortunately Jesus reveals the God who is the real potato and the face of that God looks radically different from what we create.

The eyes of God in the mournful eyes of loss and pain
The ears of God in our hearing the cry of the wretched and outcast
The mouth of God in speaking words of comfort in a time of trial
The arms of God in reaching out to quiet a restless spirit
The heart of God in every beating heart, even the most vulnerable, the youngest
The mind of God in the wisdom of gnarled hands and twisted feet
The God of warts and scars, of not quite fitting, of Truth.


The real potato was too much for the men and women of Nazareth.

They rose up, drove him out of the town,and led him to the brow of the hillon which their town had been built,to hurl him down headlong.


And what of us?
Can we accept the God who comes to us on his own terms, the God with warts and unexpected crevices, the God who does not play our game, but calls us to a new game?

Love is patient, love is kind.It is not jealous, it is not pompous,It is not inflated, it is not rude,it does not seek its own interests,it is not quick-tempered, it does not brood over injury,it does not rejoice over wrongdoingbut rejoices with the truth.It bears all things, believes all things,hopes all things, endures all things.
And of course, in the long run, the plasticized Potato headed deity cannot satisfy and the most important thing about a real potato is that you can eat it

Happy are those who are called to his supper.