King Jesus, the Heartbroken--November 7, 2024

King Jesus, the Heartbroken--November 7, 2024

"When the days drew near for [Jesus] 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 9:51-56]

Sometimes I think it just had to break Jesus' heart how completely misguided his closest disciples could be. 

Not just the casual listener at a distance, and not just the overtly hostile Roman Empire, but the people who spent day and night learning at his feet--the ones he called by name and chose to be his followers.  When the random townsperson misunderstood Jesus or walked away from his message, that was probably not so big a loss.  When the hypocrites among the Respectable Religious Leaders scorned Jesus, it was an expected move, so it probably didn't sting as much.  But when the ones who had been with Jesus for years, who had committed to walking his way and learning to see the world from Jesus' perspective, and who were coming to pin their hopes on him attaining God's long hoped-for victory, when THOSE people so completely missed the point of Jesus' message, it had to hurt.  And yet, Jesus seems not only prepared for that kind of disappointment, but willing to continue on his way unthwarted once he has set those disciples straight.

This scene from Luke's Gospel is one of those moments where it almost seems mind-boggling: how could James and John possibly think that it was in the character of Jesus to want to call down fire to burn up these Samaritans?  Even if they had declined Jesus' offer to come, speak, heal, and share time with them, shouldn't it have been clear after, I don't know, about five minutes of listening to Jesus, that he wouldn't EVER want them to call down fire on somebody else?  Didn't it just seem so blatantly obvious that it would have been insulting for Jesus to have to say it out loud: "We don't do that kind of thing?"  And yet... here they are, these two guys we name churches after, proud of themselves for thinking of the idea of calling down hellfire on the ones they see as unworthy because they haven't said yes to Jesus yet.  You get the sense from this story that Jesus is more incensed at James and John for their suggestion of fire from heaven than at the Samaritans (who didn't know better and had their reasons for being suspicious of a rabbi headed toward Jerusalem) who had rejected him in the first place.

Of course, this isn't a one-off or an exception for James and John--nor for the rest of the disciples.  As the gospels also tell us, James and John are the ones who corner Jesus a bit later in the journey asking him for the Number 1 and Number 2 spots when he comes in his glory.  And once again there, Jesus has to tell them, "That's not how we do things here!"  Over and over again, Jesus' own disciples--the ones who should "get it"--are the ones who most disappoint Jesus by failing to see how his kind of "kingdom" works.  They keep thinking of Jesus' kind of victory as a destroy-your-enemies show of force.  And they keep expecting Jesus to aspire to the usual seats of power and displays of glory.  And Jesus has to keep telling them that this isn't how the Reign of God operates.  It never was, and it still isn't... no matter how many times James or John or you or I miss the point and want to baptize our own selfishness, spite, and cruelty, we cannot make Jesus endorse that agenda. It surely breaks Jesus' heart when we so completely betray his kind of kingdom, but he is able to correct us, to say firmly and clearly, "No, that's not my kind of victory," and still to go on his way.

Look, I get it. Sometimes the most heart-breaking moments for us as followers of Jesus are when we see and hear things from others who proudly (and often angrily) brandish the label "Christian" but seem to completely miss the actual character of Jesus. (It's Gandhi's line all over again: "I like your Christ. I do not care for your Christians--your Christians are so unlike your Christ.") And surely, if it breaks our hearts, it breaks Jesus' heart to see "his people" conflating his kingdom with greed, violence, bigotry, and selfishness--and doing it with cheers and smiles like James and John here. And yet, as painful as that has to be for Jesus to endure (repeatedly!), Jesus bears that pain, corrects his followers, clearly vetoes their hateful agenda, and then moves on.  He is still teaching us, even today, that his kind of victory is different from the world's terms.  He still reserves the right to correct us, rebuke us (if need be), and to get our heads on straight again, and to be his own kind of king with or without our approval or permission.

So on the days when we are the ones who have it pointed out to us that we've missed the mark on what Jesus' kind of victory looks like, there is grace here to see that Jesus still is willing to start again with James and John, regardless of how completely wrong they were about his agenda.  And on the days when our hearts are broken at how un-Christ-like others who name the name of Jesus seem to be acting, there is comfort in knowing that Jesus is heartbroken, too, already.  And for every time we break his heart all over again by giving into hatred, spite, self-centeredness, or the misguided impulse to call down fire on our "enemies," even our worst choices cannot undo Jesus' victory.  Jesus overcomes, not by giving into the hateful and violent impulses of those who claim to be his disciples, but precisely by his refusal to play by those rules.  

Sometimes, folks who claim to be close followers of Jesus completely get it wrong and misunderstand his kind of victory. It's true. Sometimes that's us. That's true, too, and hard to face. When he corrects us and shows us we are at odds with his way of overcoming, we can start again and strive to do better, seeking to follow in the footsteps of our Lord, King Jesus... even when he is heartbroken.

Lord Jesus, where we have gotten it wrong and tried to make you fit the mold of the world's meanness and selfishness, correct us.  Lead us to follow after you, and to share in your kind of victory that outlasts and endures our meanness.