Luke 9:57-62; 10:1-20

     As Jesus moves toward Jerusalem, Luke tells about some encounters with potential followers. One person says, “I’ll follow you wherever you go.” Jesus tells him that foxes have holes and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.

     The brevity of this story leaves us with questions. Was Jesus telling this person not to follow? Was he recognizing a desire for comfort and security in the individual, so mentioned the difficulties that would come with the choice to follow? Did this person still follow after hearing what Jesus said?
      To another person, Jesus made the invitation to follow. The man said, “First let me go bury my father.” Jesus’ told him that he should let the dead bury the dead, but this person should go and proclaim the kingdom of God. Jesus’ words may seem harsh. Why not let a man bury his father? Wasn’t that a part of respecting his mother and father (one of the ten commandments)? One speculation is that father was living and the man was saying, let me wait until after my father is gone. Yet, again, it doesn’t seem entirely unreasonable. A son was expected to be the support of his parents and if he was the only son, the responsibility was all the greater.
     There were occasions when Jesus put the priority of discipleship over the responsibilities of family. When his own mother and siblings came to see him, he commented that his family were those who did the will of God.  In the same way the apostle Paul spoke of leaving the past behind (Phil 3:13). Yet, at other times, Paul gave the advice that a Christian didn’t need to separate from a non-believing spouse. On the cross, Jesus gave the care of his mother into the hands of the one disciple standing close by.  His brother James became bishop of the church in home. It doesn’t seem as though he was advocating the breaking of family ties, only the prioritizing of them. In the situation of the man who wanted to wait for his father’s burial, the man may simply have been procrastinating or making excuses, and Jesus was calling him on it.
      In the same vein, another person says “I’ll follow you, but first let me say goodbye to those at my house.” This seems a reasonable request, but Jesus says what may have been a proverb (and certainly became one), that whoever puts a hand to the plow and looks back is not fit for the Kingdom of God. Again, the potential follower may have been making excuses or delaying his discipleship.
     Jesus had a clear understanding of human nature. He knew how easily we procrastinate, make excuses, rationalize or otherwise justify half-hearted commitments. As he moved steadily into the controversies that would lead to his crucifixion, he needed followers who were willing to put everything on the line. As it was, they still scattered and nearly fell apart once he’d been arrested.
      But along with the potential danger of discipleship, Jesus also knew the fulfillment and joy that comes with utter commitment. Why accept anything less?
      Luke doesn’t tell us what the results were of these encounters with potential disciples. Did they abandon their excuses and follow or did they stand back and watch wistfully as Jesus and his committed followers continued on their way? Perhaps Luke didn’t tell us the result so we could recognize ourselves in them.
     After this, Jesus sent out seventy of his disciples with similar instructions that he’d given when he sent out the twelve (Luke 9:3-5), although he speaks in greater detail. And the seventy return with joy because their work has been so successful.
      It is quite possible that Luke deliberately followed the story of potential disciples with this one about the results of committed discipleship. The gospel stories are not simply history books. They were written to communicate the good news. Luke may have been telling all who would read his book, that making excuses to avoid discipleship is like (in modern terms) cutting off your nose to spite your face. It’s turning down the prize. Yet even here, the dangers of discipleship are not forgotten. Jesus tells the seventy that he’s sending them out like lambs in the midst of wolves.
       The woes Jesus proclaims on the cities are more obscure, even on Capernaum, which some scholars speculate had become his home as an adult. The words seem to pronounce judgment on them for rejecting him. (Yet many in Capernaum seem to have heard Jesus with favor). Except for theological traditions often described as “hellfire & brimstone,” it is difficult to know what to do with these words of Jesus. But it is all right to find things in the bible to be challenging and uncomfortable. It is a tribute to the integrity of those who passed on these writings that they didn’t take out the things that are difficult to understand or that do not seem consistent with the rest of what Jesus taught. (After all, he wouldn’t let John call down fire upon another village and forgave those who crucified him).  One theologian has suggested that difficult passages can be put into a mental drawer of things we don’t understand.
      But it is also true that the difficult passages shouldn’t be ignored entirely. Sometimes, in wrestling with it, we can learn and grow. Ultimately, whether Jesus was judging these villages or whether he was simply engaging in hyperbole (overstatement to make a point) or was saying something else, one point might be said to emerge. This is the truth that a choice for Jesus is a choice for goodness and a decision for life-giving reality.

What are the excuses you see being made to avoid fuller discipleship?
How would you express to other people the importance of making that decision?

Luke 9:51-56

     Jesus is now set to go on to Jerusalem and he sent messengers on ahead to villages to prepare to receive them. One Samaritan village refused to have them because he was headed for Jerusalem. John impulsively suggests they should order fire from heaven to destroy them. Jesus rebuked “them” and simply went on to another village.
     John, here, is the vocal one, but was obviously just saying what the others were muttering about behind his back. This is shown by the rebuke, for John isn’t the only one included in it.
     The discomfort of the Samaritans is ascribed to the fact that Jesus was determined to head on to Jerusalem. From a historical perspective, this is not hard to understand. Samaritans were looked down upon by Israelites. They did not see Jerusalem as the central worship site of their faith. Barclay reports that they would seek to hinder pilgrims to Jerusalem if they took the shorter distance through Samaria to get to Jerusalem.
     Jesus was offering a hand of friendship, which was spurned. Again, from a historical perspective, we can wonder if the Samaritans even understood it that way. However they interpreted the request of Jesus to receive him, the disciples thought it appropriate to seek their destruction. But not for nothing did Jesus live a life of understanding and forgiveness. At the very least the disciples needed to learn to tolerate those who were different. This includes the man casting out demons—see last week’s study, or the Samaritans. At their best, they needed to learn how to love those who are different or at odds with them.
     This study is being posted just a few days before Christmas, so it is difficult not to think of the Christmas story in conjunction. In many ways, the world is reminiscent of the Samaritan village. God has offered, over and over again, the hand of friendship and grace. That offering has often been spurned, yet it comes again. Jesus would be born in a hostile world in which those who were powerful wanted him dead. Yet the result was not fire from heaven; it was an empty tomb and the promise of eternal life. What Jesus asks from humans is simple. To love God and each other. Simple, yet not easy. Not only is it hard to love those who are enemies, it’s sometimes pretty difficult to love those who are annoying, rude or inconsiderate. But Jesus obviously believed we could do it.
    
Who do you find most difficult to love?
What part of your own life is like the Samaritan village—that is, are there some parts of your heart, choices or desires in which Jesus is kept from having the influence he should have?









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Luke 9:46-56

      Ironically, a story of spiritual exaltation is followed by a story of the disciples failing to heal and this story is immediately followed in Luke by an account of the disciples arguing amongst themselves about who was the greatest among them.
     The disciples who messed up are arguing over status? (How do you define irony?)
     Apparently, this discussion didn’t take place in the presence of Jesus, but he knew what they were talking about anyway. His response was to take a child and set the child next to them. He said that whoever received the child in his name received Jesus, and whoever receives Jesus receives the one who sent him. “…for he who is least among you all is the one who is great.”
     This wouldn’t be the only time children figure in the actions and teaching of Jesus. On another occasion, the parents brought their children to Jesus to be blessed and the disciples apparently thought their work was too important to be disturbed by anything or anyone with such low status.
     (Children had low status in society, yet obviously were important to their parents who wanted them blessed. Another irony to consider is how children are still sometimes treated under the law in modern society. A parent’s right to have the child often takes precedence over what may be best for the child. Also, there were animals abuse laws in the United States before there were laws to protect children from abuse. The lawyer who first went before a judge to help a child who’d been abused had to argue that the child was an animal and thereby could be protected.)
     The original disciples weren’t the last followers of Jesus to make this mistake. In the late 1970s, an evangelist at a Christian Rock concert in California was speaking while a child was fussing a bit in the audience. The evangelist stopped and ordered the mother to “take that child out of here. We’re trying to do something important.”
     What is the “important” thing the disciples of Jesus are called to do? Attain status? Garner admiration? Jesus continually modeled servanthood. Here he spoke of being among the least.
     The early church dealt with these issues. Christians were an eclectic group of people coming from all parts of society, from slave to wealthy, from powerless to some Roman officials. In I Corinthians, Paul sought to address the concerns of people who thought their spiritual gifts might be of more importance to the community than those of other people. He used the analogy of the body, all parts needed and the least regarded being of special importance.
     The disciples of Jesus had been arguing over who was most important amongst themselves, and Jesus set them straight with a few words. But they clearly didn’t fully understand, because they at least wanted to feel more important than other people. John (possibly the youngest disciples) tells Jesus that they’d seen a man casting out a demon in the name of Jesus and they told him to stop because he wasn’t among the select group of themselves. Jesus must have rolled his eyes when he answered that anyone who wasn’t against them was for them, and shouldn’t be stopped.

How do we balance between self-respect and the call of Jesus to be among the least?
How did Jesus model what he called his disciples to live?

Luke 9:37-45

     After the amazing story of the transfiguration, Luke tells a story that is peculiar in some ways. When they had come down from the mountain the next day, a man came to Jesus and told him of his son’s terrible suffering. This was his only child and had strange convulsions until his mouth foamed. The interpretation of the father and the society was that a evil spirit or demon possessed the boy. The symptoms suggest that the boy’s condition could have been epilepsy. With no other explanation, it must have felt like a demon.
     Regardless of whether it was a physical illness or an evil spirit, the father’s anguish is understandable. His son is afflicted with a terrible condition and there is nothing he can do about it. Then he’d had some hope. There is this Jesus traveling about the countryside with his disciples. The father takes his son to the disciples in the absence of Jesus, his hope high and…the disciples are unable to help.
     Jesus exclaims, “O faithless and perverse generation, how long am I to be with you and bear with you?”
     Scholars point to God’s “complaints” in Number 14:27 and Isaiah 65:2 in looking at the words of Jesus ere. It seems to be an expression of weariness. The work of Jesus couldn’t have been easy on him. He traveled a great deal, taught, healed, and tried to train the disciples. He’d just had a “mountain top” experience, one in which the suffering may also have been discussed. He returns to find his disciples have failed in his absence (and the one who’d gone with him hadn’t done too well, either). It must have been terribly discouraging. He knew that he might have only a relatively short time. These were the followers designated to carry on when he was gone…and they couldn’t heal this child.
     Yet Jesus still responded to the need of the father and his son. He rebuked the demon, which left the boy, whom Jesus returned to his father. And all were astonished at the majesty of God.
     While everyone was still amazed, Jesus turns to his disciples and reminds them that he would be delivered into the hands of men. As one scholar say, with the conjunction of these two stories, what they are hearing is that the majesty of God is to be delivered into the hands of humanity.
     Jesus frequently tried to teach the disciples that his mission was not to be a conquering hero, but they simply couldn’t hear it most of the time. The disciples didn’t have a clue here what he was talking about, although they were afraid to ask him about it. That might not be surprising—who would want to understand the cross.

How do you feel about a story of how the earliest disciples also failed in some of their tasks?
When he could have simply let them find out in the course of events, why do you think Jesus continued to make sure to tell the disciples about the cross?

Luke 9:28-36

     Sorry, this is going up a day later than usual.
     Jesus took three of the disciples, Peter, John and James, with him as he went up into the hills to pray. What they saw was what we call the transfiguration. His clothes turned dazzling white and something about his face seemed different, although we have few details. Moses and Elijah came to him and spoke of what he was going to do in Jerusalem. The disciples had been asleep at first (not the last time they’d be sleeping when Jesus prayed) and were astounded at the sight.
     As Elijah and Moses were moving away Peter, with typical lack of imagination, asked if they should make three shelters for Jesus and his visitors. Before Jesus could answer, they heard a voice saying ‘this is my Son, my chosen, listen to him.’ When the voice was silent, Jesus seemed to be alone again.
     Luke tells us that the disciples did not at that time say anything about what they had seen.
     There was a popular belief that Moses and Elijah had never died and that they would come again to herald the messianic age. There could have been a sense that the direction of Jesus to Jerusalem was in a sense a new exodus.
      It is hard for us to understand or interpret the transfiguration. What seemed interesting, and somewhat humorous, is the reaction of Peter, who seemed ready to camp out on the mountain. The scholars from the Cambridge Bible Commentary suggest he was making Jesus just one more episode in the history of Israel, while Jesus was a new event. This is interpreting the making of a shelter as trying to reenact the feast of Tabernacles, in which the Jews lived in temporary shelters as a way of remembering the wandering in the wilderness of their ancestors.
      The simplest explanation could be that Peter wanted to linger in the moment. Mountain-top experiences are wonderful and religious folks sometimes become addicted to them. But the work of Jesus was down among the people, in the gritty reality of occupation. He knew that his path would almost certainly lead to his death, but he went forward. To him, this moment was likely less about exultation and mountain top experiences than it was seeking the direction of God upon the path he was following.
     In some ways it seems strange that the disciples apparently kept quiet about what they’d seen for a long time. it could have been because Jesus himself asked them to (though people usually didn’t follow his requests). It seems possible they wondered if they’d be believed, or that they questioned the reality of what they’d seen. After all, they woke up to see it, so might have wondered if their midns were befuddled by sleep.
      It is true that any spiritual experiences are difficult to explain. In the call to witness, we may speak of God’s activities in our lives, of our love for God, a sense of God’s leading, etc. But more unusual experiences, such as visions, voices, etc., may be as real as anything we’ve ever known, yet are difficult to explain without our words being inadequate to describe them. We may fear to have them misunderstood, or we may simply know that some things are private and meant to be so. At some point the disciples sorted out what they thought about that day and decided it was appropriate to give an account.
     

Have you ever experienced something out of the ordinary in which you knew God was involved?
Have you ever shared it with others, and how did they react?
In the rational world in which people try to find alternate reasons, how would you define a true experience of God?

Luke 9:25-27

     Jesus had a clear set of priorities. He clearly cared about the quality of a person’s life in this world. But he didn’t want people trading the temporary quality of life in this world, for the imperishable things of the soul. What value is it to win things of this world at the cost of the true inner self? What he says to drive this home seems harsh. If someone was ashamed of him now, he’d be ashamed of them later. In some ways this statement doesn’t seem on par with the forgiveness and grace he lived. Yet it was also a time when hyperbole, strong and extravagant statements, were the custom. Jesus could have been driving home the point by a strong statement to convince people to pay attention and not trade gold for dross.
     The last statement is one that has caused confusion,--that there were some standing there who would not taste death until they had seen the kingdom of God.
     Many early Christians assumed this meant that the coming of the kingdom (often interpreted as the apocalypse) would come within their lifetime. Yet as the generation died off that had known Jesus in the flesh, they had to deal with the fact that it wasn’t going to happen in that way.
     Interpretation of this ranges widely. Some believe that Jesus, fully human (the purpose of incarnation) simply was mistaken. This is offensive to some who believe that Jesus must have been omniscient, knowing everything. Certainly Jesus did know much. We could ask, ‘did he know the world was round, instead of flat,’ which was the prevailing idea of most of the world for dozens of generations?’ Or did he operate with his time and culture, with the limitations of knowledge that his fellow citizens did? There aren’t any satisfactory answers to this. He had remarkable understanding of human nature. He understood and represented God’s nature. But if he knew everything in the mind of God, he would not have needed to pray.
     Regardless of the answers to the nature of the knowledge of Jesus, it is clear that the kingdom, as in the apocalypse expected by some Christians, did not happen in the 2,000 years since then. But is also possible that Jesus did not necessarily mean the coming of the kingdom in that way?
      Jesus said interesting things about the kingdom. The kingdom is within you. But some would see the kingdom before they died. The kingdom is like a mustard seed cast out with other seeds in the field. The kingdom is like leaven, invisible but active and inescapable until all is leavened. He taught his followers to pray ‘thy kingdom come...’
      As Jesus described it, the kingdom of God both is and is to come. It is visible, yet invisible.   The difficulty in discussing God’s kingdom may be due to the limitations of human language and images for describing something of God.

How do you see the kingdom of God?
When you pray “thy kingdom come” what do you think will happen?
How do you discern (if you do) the kingdom of God around and within you?

Luke 9:23-25

     Jesus just got finished telling his disciples that he was not going to be a conquering hero, then he makes it clear that being a follower of his wasn’t going to be any picnic either. If they wanted to go with him, they would have to pick up their cross daily. Making the saving of their lives a priority will be useless. Those who lose their lives for his sake will save it.
     Christians have grown used to the idea that they are called to “pick up their cross daily.” The subject is probably taken lightly, certainly the “cross” becomes to modern followers whatever little inconvenience or giving they do. Or some may suffer an illness or accident or problem and say that after all this is a cross they’ll have to bear. And perhaps it is, but possibly not the kind of cross Jesus was talking about.
     When Jesus faced his cross, he had a choice. He could have run away. He could have chosen a ministry that would not bring him into conflict with the dangerous elite. He could have had his followers fight on his behalf. He could have used his remarkable powers to circumvent the cross. But he didn’t. He may have prayed and asked God to let him skip this death, but when he believed it was God’s will for him to proceed, that’s what he did.
     The cross was a form of execution that the Romans adopted from the Persians. It was intended as cruel and unusual punishment – also very public.
     Crucifixion hung a man by the arms, stretching the chest muscles which kept the man from being able to breathe properly. Lack of oxygen caused lactic acid to build up in the muscles causing severe and painful cramps. You know how painful those muscle cramps must have been to know that a man would raise himself up on the nails through his feet in order to get some decent breaths of air. But he couldn't take the pain in his feet very long, so his body would sag and the suffocation and the muscle cramps started again. Hours, sometimes days passed with this terrible alternating torture between the breath and the muscle pains and the agony in the feet. Finally, he grew too weak to extend his life by raising himself up and he would die. If the Romans wanted to hasten death, they broke the man's legs.
     It took Jesus fewer hours to die because of what he had already endured—the thirty-nine lashes. Forty lashes was considered a death sentence. Jesus was already in severely weakened condition when he was placed upon the cross. It still took six hours of incredible agony.
     The cross for modern Christians has become a symbol, something that is decorated into a beautiful form. It is hard to estimate what his words sounded like to those who first heard him say they must pick up the cross in order to follow. Even the noose or electric chair, relatively clean and no longer public, would not have the same impact today.
     The disciples showed little sign that they actually believed Jesus would suffer and die—until he was placed on the cross. After the crucifixion there could have been little doubt that being his follower could involve a cross, or something else that was humiliating, painful, unpleasant, devastating, or fatal. We have mostly traditions about what happened to the disciples. Only young John, by those traditions, seemed to have died an old man. An early follower, Stephen, would be stoned to death. Holding the cloaks of those doing the stoning was Paul, (also known as Saul). When he became a Christian later in his life, he would be lashed, imprisoned, and otherwise abused. He also suffered from some form of physical or emotional ailment; he didn’t seem to regard that as something suffered on behalf of Jesus, but simply as a thorn in the flesh.

What might constitute a cross in the life of a modern Christian?

Have you found a cross you had to pick up in being a disciple?