Show Don't Tell: John 4:43-45

As Jesus journeys back to Galilee, we can almost feel the warmth of the sun rising over the hills. Picture Him walking those dusty roads, the gentle breeze stirring the fragrance of olive trees and wildflowers. Yet, amid this natural beauty lies an irony that cuts deep. He arrives in Galilee, the very region where He grew up, where the townsfolk watched Him as a child, played games with Him, and knew Him as the carpenter’s son. But the welcome He receives is peculiar.

The Galileans swarm around Him, faces alight with excitement, their voices rising in a cacophony of anticipation. They have heard whispers of the miracles He worked in Jerusalem during the Passover Festival, the signs that dazzled many. They are drawn not by reverence for His character, but by an insatiable hunger for spectacle. They welcome Him, yes, but their cheers echo with a hollow cheer—a clamor not for the man He is, but for the wonders they hope to witness.

Imagine young Samuel, the eager boy from Nazareth, now a man, standing before a crowd that has come to see a magician, not a Messiah. The Galileans are enamored with the idea of miracles, but they miss the profound truth of who Jesus is. They don’t grasp the depth of His purpose, the love behind His works. Their welcome is like a summer’s day: bright and warm on the surface, yet lacking the depth of true honor and understanding. In their midst, Jesus stands, a prophet without honor, longing for hearts that see beyond the surface.