Just like that, Jesus our King is “…the carpenter’s son.” His mother is Mary; a common name, a common woman (so they thought!). He grew up with men who were as brothers to Him: James, Joseph, Simon, and Judas, all common names, likely common men. Those He knew as being sisters to Him were so unremarkable as to have their names unremembered.
Thus the people, at first “…astonished…” by His teaching, “…took offense at him,” as if to say, “Who do you think you are, Jesus? We know who you are; sit down and shut up.” How could He therefore work any mighty deeds—anything uncommon—in the midst of people who would believe nothing extraordinary about Him, who thought as Nathanael would once say aloud, “Can anything good come from Nazareth?” (John 1:46). If this was a common disposition to the small town, is it any wonder that even those amazed by the teaching of Jesus could not believe for a moment that anything good—much less Goodness Himself—could come from there? Thus there are no stories of miracles, of great deeds done by Jesus in the very place which saw Him grow from a child into a man: to common was His “hidden life” that the seed of faith could not grow in the hearts of those who believed quite solidly that they knew Him, and knew all they needed to know about Him.
You and I know what came from Nazareth or, rather, Who. He has, by your baptism, and in every Holy Communion, made His dwelling within you: does Jesus have a place of honor there? Is there, within you, the faith for Him to work mighty deeds in this world through you? For each us, for the most part, has as much of an unremarkable early life as Jesus did, and yet the same Jesus who would go on to transform the entire world has chosen you to leave Nazareth, to be the unexpected goodness that comes from a world lacking so much of it, that by your faith and that which you inspire in other, He may “…work many might deeds…” through you.