Preacher: Rev. Jennifer Hosler, PhD

Date: March 17, 2024

Scripture: Luke 9:51-62

Two weeks ago, I worshipped with our siblings in Christ in Bethlehem, Palestine, at the Lutheran Christmas Church, where Rev. Dr. Munther Isaac is the pastor. This beautiful church at the top of the old city of Bethlehem is home to about 200 Palestinian Christian members, two thirds of whom are refugees. I chose our scripture text today, not because it was in the lectionary but because it was our text that Sunday in Bethlehem. It also is very fitting for the season of Lent, as we spend time thinking about what it means to follow Jesus, as we think about Jesus himself “setting his face to go toward Jerusalem,” knowing what fulfilling the will of God would mean.

This section of scripture is linked together and has two vignettes, both connected to the journey of Jesus and the disciples. It starts out with Jesus recognizing that it is time for his ministry to shift from Galilee in the north to Jerusalem. Jesus has predicted his death and resurrection. Many scholars have written about the phrasing here in chapter 9, where it says, “he set his face to go to Jerusalem.” This phrasing means that Jesus is acting with intention, knowing that his ministry will come at great cost. There is a resoluteness and a steadfastness, despite the difficult of answering God’s call.

Jesus sets his face to go toward Jerusalem and then Jesus and the disciples start their journey. Jesus sends some messengers ahead to check in, to announce he is on the way, and maybe scope out potential connections for hospitality. Despite the animosity between Samaritans and Jews at the time, Jesus is planning to stop at a Samaritan village to proclaim the Kingdom there. This is a radical move, fraternizing with the “enemy” and extending God’s love across social boundaries.

However, despite this extension of grace, human barriers still serve as roadblocks. When Jesus and the disciples arrive in this Samaritan village, they are actually not welcome. One of the division points between Samaritans and Jews is that they disagreed on where the right place to worship God was: Mount Gerazim or Jerusalem. Since Jesus was notably on the way to Jerusalem, the Samaritans of that village did not want to hear from Jesus.

The scene shifts to the crowd around Jesus, as they all digest the news about the lack of welcome from the Samaritans. I am sure it was disappointing, saddening, and maybe frustrating. James and John step forward, two disciples often referred to as the “sons of thunder”, a nickname that gives them in the gospel of Mark (3:17). James and John say, “Lord, do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?” Basically, they are saying, “Jesus, do you want us to burn them up? Scorched earth for those who reject you or who aren’t interested in what you have to say?”

We don’t get to hear the details in Jesus’ response. The text is brief: Jesus turns and rebukes them. The group then continues the journey to another village.  

It is notable, considering the context in chapter 9, that the disciples would have thought this was a good tactic. At the beginning of chapter 9, Jesus had sent out the 12 disciples in pairs, teaching, preaching, and healing (9:1-10). Jesus instructed them, if anyone doesn’t welcome you, just shake the dust off your feet as a simple of that unwelcome. He definitely doesn’t say, “Burn down the ones that don’t welcome you.  

Another part of chapter 9, immediately before our text (vv. 46-50), sheds a little insight into what might be going through the minds of James and John.  Shortly before the rejection from the Samaritan village, the disciples were arguing over who was the greatest among them. Jesus finds out about this ego competition and brings a child over, saying, “Whoever welcomes a child in my name, welcomes me… the least among you is the greatest.”

With the fire and brimstone, maybe James and John are actually offended, and their social prejudice is triggered into hateful rage. Maybe they are hoping they will score points with Jesus and will be #1 disciples, being zealously violent for the kingdom of God.  James and John are dramatically missing the point of the Kingdom of God. Their seeking of violence is rebuked. I would like to imagine that Jesus’ rebuke includes a reminder about loving their enemies and doing good to those who persecute them, something Jeus taught about a few chapters before (6:37-38).

In summary, our first vignette has Jesus trying to reach out to his “enemies” and minister among them, while also partaking of their hospitality (something that would have been incredible, crossing social boundaries). The Samaritans decline due to old rivalries – and the sons of thunder ask about burning it all down. These disciples then have a come to Jesus, with Jesus. The Kingdom of God is not about fire and brimstone on our enemies.

About 10 days ago, I returned from Palestine, the West Bank and East Jerusalem. While in Palestine, we stayed in Bethlehem at the Lutheran Christmas Church guesthouse. It was a very centering and beautiful place to be—at a church in the city where Jesus was born. Not only that, considering the immense grief and loss in Gaza, it was meaningful to stay in a place of witness. We stayed in the place where Christmas was cancelled due to genocide, where the nativity scene “Christ in the rubble” jarred the conscience of Christians around the globe and reminded millions of the power of Immanuel, God with Us. There was something very grounding about being centered in Bethlehem, a center of Christianity in Palestine, as we traveled to East Jerusalem, Ramallah, and Hebron for meetings with Christian leaders and human rights activists, teachers of nonviolence. We also held many meetings in and around Bethlehem.

One day, we traveled to the outskirts of Bethlehem, to the surrounding hills where a small family farm called the Tent of Nations is on a hilltop. We had to take a long detour because Israeli settlers and the Israeli military (IDF) had placed boulders and dirt to block the most direct entrance from Bethlehem. The segregationist regime wants to reduce the number of international visitors to the farm, since the stories of the Nassars highlight Palestinian voices for peace amidst injustice.

Daoud Nassar and his siblings have turned their historic family farm into a place of welcome and bridgebuilding. Palestinians refer to the concept of sumud, or steadfastness, which they use to describe their perseverance against injustice, their commitment to the land and their people despite oppression. Despite attacks by settlers and the IDF on their olive trees and other aspects of the farm, despite a prohibition against improvements (like electricity or plumbing or building) on the land deeded to them since the Ottoman era, despite attempts to use bureaucracy to steal their land, the Nassars maintain their commitment to Christian nonviolence. A painted rock on their property proclaims this message: “We refuse to be enemies.”

The Nassars refuse to meet violence with violence. They also refuse to be victims, Daoud says. they are remaining steadfast in trying to seek justice in the courts to maintain their land (the Israeli government decided it is “Israeli state land” – which is absurd and illegal under international law, since the land is in the West Bank).

One of the principles of Kingian nonviolence is that we are to defeat ideologies of hate, not to defeat people. We are not to hate people purporting hate; we are not to see people as our enemies. The Nassar family lives out their Christian faith, refusing to be enemies, refusing to call down fire from heaven. How can we learn from the Nassar family’s sumud, from their commitment to nonviolence, from their refusal to see people as their enemies?

Our scripture passage continues with a second vignette, with Jesus, the disciples, and the crowds accompanying them on the road. Throughout the gospels, there are constant throngs surrounding Jesus. He sometimes speaks off to the 12 or has them close to him, but there are often big groups hanging around too. We don’t know who exactly the speaker is, but one person sidles up to Jesus and says, “I will follow you wherever you go.” It could be taken like a bit of a brag or boast – “Jesus, look at me, I will follow you anywhere!” or it could be an earnest new commitment from someone who recently joined the crowds around Jesus. It is hard to get the correct sense.

However, we see the words of Jesus seeking to add a sobering reality to the earnest follower. Jesus says, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” Jesus was an itinerant preacher and healer, dependent on the hospitality of others. He even just experienced a lack of welcome from a community. Jesus wants this person to know that following him is not all sunbeams, rainbows, and smiles; there is an element of risk and uncertainty, walking with him. Following Jesus does not equal comfort and success.

A second person enters the scene and, this time, Jesus extends a verbal invitation. “Come, follow me.”  But he said, “Lord, first let me go and bury my father.” Jesus said to him, “Let the dead bury their own dead, but as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God.” Scholars have theorized about the context here, since it sounds harsh: maybe the person was aiming to fulfill traditional filial obligations – the dad was healthy and this prospective follower would need to stay at home for years, bury father, transition family leadership, and then seek to follow Jesus. We don’t know if that is the case. Potentially, the harshness was a hyperbole to make Jesus’ point: if you are all in for following Jesus, then priorities and allegiances shift in ways that do not mirror cultural expectations. Jesus’ message here is to readjust cultural priorities and focus on proclaiming the Kingdom of God.

Finally, a third person encounters Jesus. This one says, “I will follow you, Lord, but let me first say farewell to those at my home.” And Jesus said to him, “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.” Again, we do not know the specifics here about the family context. We don’t know how long this person has been walking with Jesus. Was it just a casual afternoon gawking at this healer? Was it several days or weeks? Regardless of the circumstance, Jesus stresses that discipleship requires steadfastness. No wobbling or turning around, but a steady commitment to the task of proclaiming and living out the kingdom of God. Yesterday, I turned around while being chased down a rocky path by a 5-year-old. Turning around in such a circumstance can be treacherous. Turning around while plowing can make all your lines wiggly, messing up your rows and potentially your crops.

As I worshipped with the Lutheran Christmas Church two Sundays ago, the congregation went up for bread and cup communion. During worship, I had wondered whether the Nassars were able to leave their land to attend church somewhere, especially since the risk of attacks on their land is high. After I sat down from receiving communion, I saw Daoud and his siblings Amal and Daher coming up to receive communion too, to be nourished by the body and blood of Christ, in the bread and cup. They are following Jesus and being steadfast, both in their commitment to nonviolence and in their commitment to seek justice for their family, for their Palestinian people.

At times, it can be tempting to seek out a faith that prioritizes salvation and comfort. Safety. Prosperity. American dreams of bigger houses, higher status, and prestige. As I think about this passage, about commitment and cost, I go back to the message shared by Rev. Dr. Munther Isaac. He said that this passage is about following Christ “with reservations.” A person says, “I want to follow Christ but…” “I am interested in spirituality and how it can make me feel good, but – without cost. I am interested in “salvation and comfort” but without cost. I might follow Jesus for a while, but my priorities might change along the way.

How do we say keep saying yes to God without reservations? In whatever our context, the call to walk with Jesus is never going to be easy. It doesn’t look the same for each of us. Yet each of us has the assurance that we are not alone – that Jesus walks with us. Christ in the rubble. Christ amidst the torn-up olive trees. Christ walking with us as we refuse to be enemies. Christ walking with us as we seek to offer mercy, justice, and reconciliation, to a world battered by violence, injustice, and hatred. Christ walking with us as we understand our own call, our own piece, in proclaiming the Kingdom of God. AMEN.