The Unsummoned Fire

The Unsummoned Fire--February 26, 2018

"John answered, 'Master, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him, because he does not follow with us.' But Jesus said to him, 'Do not stop him; for whoever is not against you is for you.'  When the days drew near for him to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem. And he sent messengers ahead of him. On their way they entered a village of the Samaritans to make ready for him; but they did not receive him, because his face was set toward Jerusalem. When his disciples James and John saw it, they said, 'Lord, do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?' But he turned and rebuked them. Then they went on to another village." [Luke 9:49-56]

The greatest show of strength in this scene is revealed in six short words.  The greatest demonstration of authority is seen in what does not happen.

The real power here is Jesus' choice not to call down blazing retribution from heaven because someone has rejected him.  It is the decision Jesus makes--and compels his followers to abide by--not to react to hostility with more hostility.  The truly awesome thing in this scene is not the implicit assumption that Jesus could theoretically call down flames of vengeance on people who had slighted him (or his disciples), but the fact that the fire remains unsummoned.  Jesus just moves on.

"But he turned and rebuked them," Luke says--and amazingly, the "them" whom Jesus rebukes is not the town full of inhospitable Samaritans who reject Jesus out of their religious and ethnic prejudices (he is, after all, "set toward Jerusalem").  Jesus is rebuking his own followers for even suggesting an idea like calling down fire to destroy them!  Think about that for a moment--Jesus' frustration is not aimed at the people who have rejected, slighted, and insulted him, but at his followers for wanting to respond with violence in the name of God because of the perceived insult!  It's rather like Jesus is saying to his disciples, "Look, guys, you should at least know better!  How long have you been with me, listening to me, seeing how I live, how I respond to hostility, and how I deal with opponents--and you still don't get it?"  Jesus doesn't do or say a thing against the village of Samaritans; but he does have strong words for his closest friends for having suggested they respond to insult with injury.

And yet, even more compelling to me, once Jesus has said what must be said, he moves on.  He just moves on.

That is another beautiful dimension about the maturity of Jesus. Jesus' way of living and engaging with people lets him be secure enough in who he is not to get worked up when he feels threatened, or insulted, or rejected.  Jesus is the consummate grown-up, and he teaches his followers the same kind of maturity.  And part of how he does it is in seeing what he does--and does not--give more ammunition to by making a big fuss.  Jesus shows us what things are worth getting worked up over, and what things are decidedly not.  

And to be clear, there are surely plenty of times when Jesus does make a big deal of things that could have gone unnoticed or overlooked.  When he enters the synagogue and sees a man whose hand is crippled and then listens to the religious so-and-sos start attacking the man for having come to the synagogue for healing on the Sabbath, the Gospel writers say that Jesus is upset at their indifference, "grieved at their hardness of heart" (Mark 3:5), and makes a bigger scene because their lack of compassion is despicable.  When Jesus sees the commerce in the Temple, he brings everything to a grinding halt by knocking over tables, driving out the animals, and effectively shutting down the proceedings for the day.  When a woman is brought to Jesus after having been caught cheating on her husband, Jesus turns the attention back on the accusers with the famous line, "Let the one who is without sin cast the first stone."  Even down to the intentionally provocative upside-down parade Jesus orchestrates that we call Palm Sunday, which was intended at least in part as an alternative to the intimidating military parade that Pilate ordered as a pompous show of Roman power and spirit every year to flex a little imperial muscle before the Passover, Jesus shows again and again that he is perfectly capable of creating a confrontation when he wants to.  But it is always a question of what is worth making a fuss over.

The thing that gets me about this scene from Luke is not simply that Jesus doesn't get riled up--it's knowing that he does get riled up at other times, and that the difference is that here, he just doesn't need to defend his ego.  Defend someone else who is being attacked or maligned?  You bet Jesus speaks up.  Taking the arrogant, saber-rattling Romans down a few pegs with a weaponless parade of palm branches?  He will do that.  But calling down fire because someone else has potentially hurt his feelings?  No--Jesus is a grown-up.  He does not need to respond to insult with heavenly fire.   Not even name-calling back.  He simply will not sink that low.

Jesus just moves on.  That is his way.

And the fact that he just moves on and heads to the next town tells his disciples that this is not a big deal.  That, too, is another sign of Jesus' maturity.  We don't get any other stories where Jesus says, "Hey fellas... remember that town that rejected me?  What a bunch of losers they were!"  There is not a single time that Jesus finds a friendlier audience and goes railing against "those Samaritans in that one village who hurt my feelings!"  And there is never conversation later on where Jesus brings the subject back up again and tells his disciples, "You know... I coulda called down fire on those no-good villagers!  I had the power, ya know... I coulda!  I coulda!  Maybe I'll do it after all--they still have it coming, after all!"  No.  None of that.  Jesus just moves on.

Look, I know that it is unlikely that you or I will be provoked to start calling down fire or lightning bolts of divine judgment against people in the new day... but I also know that each of us knows what it is like to be slighted.  I know that we have had the experience of being rejected, of feeling insulted, or overlooked, or made fun of at some point.  Sometimes it will be on the lips of people who know exactly what they are doing and are well aware of precisely how hurtful their words will land, and sometimes it will be from people who are clueless as to how thoughtless, or ignorant, or bigoted, or hateful their words and actions really are.  I can offer you no strategy for preventing others from being idiots nor spiteful.  But what you and I do have control over is how we will respond to such slights, or insults, or rejection.

And basically, there are two options: one (of which there are plenty of notable examples floating around us in this cultural moment) is to be petty and spiteful back.  We can call names back.  We can threaten.  We can insult.  We can wait until we are surrounded by an echo chamber of people who think like us already and go whining about how unfair and upset we were because so-and-so said something mean.  We can keep bringing up the insults of the past, and stoking the fires of resentment.  We can even delude ourselves into thinking that God is on "my" side (and only "my side") and maybe even convince ourselves that God would send down fire for us on the people who declined our invitations or snubbed our offers, if we asked nicely.  We might tell ourselves that any of those actions will make us look "tough" or "strong" or "great"... but really, they make us look pathetic.

The other option is the way of Jesus.  It's not that we say that the insults, the slights, or the rejections are "ok."  It's not that we pretend they don't hurt or don't mean anything.  But we don't respond by sinking to the same level.  We don't call names or lob insults.  We don't threaten with either human or heavenly means of retribution.  We don't let the insulters have ongoing power over us by getting in our heads.  Rather, we make the choice not to return evil for evil... and we move on.  

That's what real power looks like: the power of unsummoned fire.

Any idiot in this life can get hot under the collar and lash out in unchecked petty anger.  Don't confuse vindictive insults or insecure attempts at getting even with true power.

Jesus shows us what the real deal is like: his maturity, his authority, his power--they are all on full display in the way he breaks the cycle of tit-for-tat, evil-for-evil, insult-for-insult, and just moves on.  That is his way.  And ours, if we dare.

Lord Jesus, make us mature like you and able to respond to hostility with your kind of grounded, mature gracefulness, rather than losing control, lashing out in anger, and thinking it makes us seem tough.