THE FIRST OF SIX SERMONS FROM LUKE’S ACCOUNT OF JESUS’ LAST JOURNEY
St Luke’s Day comes up on 18th October. Yesterday (20th September) I began preaching at St Luke’s Maylands and St Patrick’s Mt Lawley. I am also working on a book about Luke and Acts, so have decided to preach a series of six sermons from Jesus’ last journey to Jerusalem in the middle of Luke’s Gospel. I am calling it “With Jesus on the Journey to Life”.
I don’t know if John Bunyan had this journey in mind when he wrote of Pilgrim’s journey from the City of Destruction to the Celestial City and his many adventures along the way. Pilgrim’s Progress is an allegory of the life of a disciple. Read it if you haven’t already; it is one of the masterpieces of English literature. Luke had a similar idea. Jesus is on a journey from Galilee to Jerusalem. There he will face death and die, and God will raise him to new and undying life. Luke made a collection of much of Jesus’ teaching, and placed it in the context of that journey. It is a journey to the cross, but also a journey to resurrection and a new world. Christians are invited to see their life as a journey and to share with Jesus along the way. The name of the Christian movement before it was called Christianity was “the Way”. The teaching in that central section of Luke is mostly about Christian life.
This morning we will look at the historical setting of the journey. Luke 9.51 is a major turning point in Luke’s story and marks the beginning of the journey: When the days were fulfilled for Jesus to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem. Luke knows his Bible and is hinting that Jesus saw himself as fulfilling the mission of the promised Servant of the Lord. The Suffering Servant would set his face like flint and not turn away from mockery, abuse and spitting. (Isaiah 50.4-11) Jesus has come to fulfil God’s mission to bring in a new world, the kingdom of God. To achieve it he must be lifted on a cross and die, and then be raised in resurrection, and then to the position of highest authority in the universe at God’s right hand, finally to reappear and rule the universe forever. The time had come, says Luke. Jesus set his face to go to Jerusalem. This is the start of the journey which will occupy the next ten chapters of his Gospel.
For the previous two years Jesus has announced the kingdom of God in Galilee and called on people to return to God. At one level his mission had been an astounding success, but as he saw it, was a failure. Chorazin, Bethsaida – two towns on the Sea of Galilee – “Woe to you!” And Capernaum, the home base for his ministry and the place where so many of his miracles were done. Of course, he was a celebrity there; so many exciting stories came from Capernaum. But they had failed to do the one thing that was necessary: they had not changed their hearts and made God the centre of their lives: “And you, Capernaum, will you be exalted to heaven? No, you will be brought down to hell!”
Jesus told a story about a gardener in a vineyard. The owner came and saw a fruitless fig tree. He ordered him to cut it down. But the gardener pleaded, “Let it be for one more year, and I will do everything I can to make it bear fruit. If it still remains fruitless, alright, then cut it down.” (Luke 13.6-9) Jesus has spent two years trying to get Israel to repent and produce fruit, to no avail. The time is approaching when the axman must do his work. But not yet! He must still appeal to Judaea and Jerusalem, and Samaria on the way. Jesus sent messengers ahead of him, into every town and village where he would come.
Luke 10.1-12After this the Lord appointed seventy-two others and sent them on ahead of him, two by two, into every town and place where he himself was about to go. And he said to them, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few. Therefore, pray earnestly to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest. Go your way; behold, I am sending you out as lambs in the midst of wolves. Carry no moneybag, no knapsack, no sandals, and greet no one on the road. Whatever house you enter, first say, ‘Peace be to this house!’ And if a son of peace is there, your peace will rest upon him. But if not, it will return to you … Whenever you enter a town and they receive you, eat what is set before you. Heal the sick in it and say to them, ‘The kingdom of God has come near to you.’ But whenever you enter a town and they do not receive you, go into its streets and say, ‘Even the dust of your town that clings to our feet we wipe off against you. Nevertheless, know this, that the kingdom of God has come near.’ I tell you, it will be more bearable on that day for Sodom than for that town.
This mission is important if we are to understand the history of Jesus’ time on earth. You know that earlier he sent his twelve apostles on a mission in Galilee. It was exciting, but led to little in the way of true repentance and fruit. Now the mission is expanding into Samaria and Judaea. The number seventy-two was probably a practical strategy. The original band was sent out in six groups, each with two apostles. Now each of those pairs has twelve others to manage, or perhaps each of the twelve had six.[1] It doesn’t matter. It’s clear enough what they had to do: they were to announce the arrival of the kingdom of God. But there is a startling difference in the instructions Jesus gave this group compared with the earlier mission. He tells them not to wear shoes! In the earlier mission he is emphatic that they should. (Mark 6.9) This is curious. They are also to travel light and greet no one along the way. Two more oddities! It seems these men are to play the part of long-distance messengers, which makes sense, because they were carrying a gospel. Gospels were important announcements, and were often carried by long-distance runners. But these were not professionals with hardened feet. Some of them had to go long distances over rough terrain. You can imagine what their feet were like when they reached their goal: bloody and sore! But they carried a great announcement. Looking at those feet and listening to their message, some people must have wondered could there be a connection… Isaiah foretold a time when a runner carrying a gospel would appear on the mountains of Judah: “How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of the gospeller who announces peace, who brings the gospel, who announces salvation, who says to Zion, ‘Your God reigns.’” (Isaiah 52.7) Repulsive feet, but beautiful for the news they carried! In the ancient synagogues ‘Your God reigns’ was read as, ‘The kingdom of your God has been revealed.’ According to Isaiah, sometime in the future messengers would arrive with the announcement (gospel) that God had returned bringing salvation and establishing his kingdom.
Jesus’ messengers were not on a teaching mission; they were bearers of an important announcement, summed up here in Luke in one word: ‘Peace!’ Peace between God and his people, from whom he has been estranged since he divorced them, and destroyed their capital city, and sent them as captives into foreign lands. And peace with God meant the end of their judgement, and all of their suffering. No more sickness. No more occupation, exploitation, cruelty. No more corruption. No more pandemics, no more death. But were they ready for peace with God? Or would they toss it off as just more religion, as the Galileans had? If they refused to believe the gospel … Jesus told his messengers to wipe the dirt from their feet and move on. This was Israel’s last chance; it they turned their back, their end would be like Sodom’s. Just forty years later Jerusalem was a smouldering ruin.
On the surface the mission went well. The seventy-two returned to report to Jesus, excited out of their brains at what had happened. Healings, demons cast out; to Jesus it signaled the fall of Satan’s kingdom, the coming true of the promise of Genesis 3 that humans would trample the ancient serpent:
‘I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven. Behold, I have given you authority to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy, and nothing shall hurt you. Nevertheless, do not rejoice in this, that the spirits are subject to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.’
Christian ministry can be very exciting. I am watching the progress of a former student in Mozambique. When he was eight years out of college, I heard he had planted eight churches. I didn’t believe it and went to see for myself. He was at work on his twelfth church plant – this one in the capital, Maputo. I called the bishop in Johannesburg to come and look. They have been working together since then. He now has forty-six congregations under his care, some of them quite large. Many of them are led by people he has led to Christ, discipled, and trained. What God is doing there is exciting. But in other places and at other times Christian ministry has been a hard slog. Here in Australia most of our countrymen have turned their backs on Jesus, on God, and on the church. It is easy for Christians to lose heart. But we should never be swept away by external circumstances, be they exciting or dismal. ‘Do not rejoice that the spirits are subject to you, but that your names are written in heaven.’ God is pushing forward his plan. At times we will be overwhelmed by the good things that are happening. Sometimes we will wonder whether God is asleep on the job. What matters, says Jesus, is to know that you are safe, that God has received you into his kingdom.
The other day I picked up a shabby old paperback by C.S. Forester. It was published in 1955; three and sixpence was the price on the jacet. Most of Forester’s books are set in the time of the Napoleonic wars, but this one is from World War II and is about the commander of an American destroyer, escorting a convoy of thirty-seven merchant ships to England. Midway across the Atlantic there is a wolf-pack lying in wait, and a struggle ensues to fight off half a dozen German submarines intent on destroying the convoy. When I prepared this sermon and read these reassuring words of Jesus, seven ships of the convoy had been torpedoed, the destroyer and another cruiser had been badly damaged, and used up most of their depth charges, and oil. The commander has been awake and in command for forty-eight hours. H estimates they are one day away from aircover. All that matters is to get through one more day to safety. What drew my attention to the book was its title: The Good Shepherd. I checked whether it had ever been made into a movie. It has! It was released in July 2020, starring Tom Hanks. I am curious what the director made of a book that is thick with Bible allusions and this deeply Christian man.
Jesus tells every one of his followers – and I hope that includes you – that we are safe: our names are recorded in heaven. In the end that is all that matters. The Good Shepherd knows his sheep, every one by name: “My sheep listen to my voice: I know them, and they follow me! I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one can snatch them out of my hand.” (John 10.27-28) Knowing that you belong to God’s kingdom and that your name is recorded in heaven as one of Christ’s sheep will carry you through many of life’s storms.
I said that Jesus saw his mission in Galilee, and now in Judaea, as a failure. You would think that would have depressed him. But this is not so.
In that same hour Jesus rejoiced in the Holy Spirit and said, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that you have hidden these things from the wise and understanding and revealed them to little children; yes, Father, for such was your gracious will. All things have been handed over to me by my Father, and no one knows who the Son is except the Father, or who the Father is except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.”
This is remarkable. Jesus saw that in a mysterious way God’s plan was working itself out, and he rejoiced in that. Many were blind to the coming of the king and the arrival of his kingdom; many still are. But there were some, and there always are some – Jesus calls them ‘little children’ – whose eyes God opens to believe. Things are never out of God’s control. He is dealing with a runaway, hostile world. His ways may seem strange, but he is the good shepherd and knows what he is doing. There are two words in Greek for good. The most common of the two means ‘kind’. The one used here, kalos, means capable. Jesus knows what he is doing. He has gone all out to gain Israel’s heart for God, and bless them with the promised kingdom; that was his mission. He has failed; so it seems. Yet he rejoices in the working out of what he calls, ‘Your gracious will.’ Whatever the circumstances, however bad things may seem to be, we can know that God is in control, and that his plan is gracious – that means merciful, and kind. God is working out a merciful plan with Covid 19, and in all the convulsions of this world. Knowing that we can rejoice.
Finally, Jesus turns to his disciples and says,
“Blessed are the eyes that see what you see! 24 For I tell you that many prophets and kings desired to see what you see, and did not see it, and to hear what you hear, and did not hear it.”
God has come among his people in the person of Jesus to be our king, to gather his own, and to deliver our tortured world from its evil and suffering. Generations of God’s servants had looked forward to that day and wished it would happen in their time. The disciples were actually witness to it – the first and main part anyway. They ate and drank and journeyed with the king. Thanks to the words he and they left behind, we can do so also. We all will witness his coming in glory at the end of the age, to raise the dead and reveal the promised everlasting kingdom.
Jesus steeled himself to go to Jerusalem knowing that what awaited him there was rejection and death. Nevertheless, he was filled with joy because God was working his purpose out. The little ones were seeing him for who he was, and being saved. Satan’s days were running out. Jesus knew the final end would be joy: the whole creation healed and restored to its creator. Over the next five weeks we will walk with him and explore his teaching along the way. Next Sunday we will hear him give an unexpected answer to a question about eternal life.
[1] Some of the oldest manuscripts have 72; others read 70. As this was a traditional number and likely to be favoured by scribes, it is likely 72 was original