Commentary on Luke 9:51-62

In this week’s lectionary text, the story begins in a Samaritan village. In my initial read, I noted how easy it would be for a reader to create a “them versus them” framework, as if there are only all good or all bad in the different communities represented. We know from the Gospels that tensions existed between Jewish and Samaritan communities. Jesus sends people ahead to prepare a place for him, seemingly expecting a welcome—but he doesn’t receive one.

It’s tempting to interpret this as the Samaritan village doing something wrong, because our assumption is that, of course, they should have invited Jesus to stay. However, that assumes that the snippet of the story we get is even close to the whole, which we know it is not. There are always multiple versions. In addition, focusing on that assumption would distract us from the deeper message. The real invitation here is to observe how Jesus responds, even when inconvenienced, and to reflect on what it means to follow him in such moments.

Allowing agency as an act of love

Those in the village did not receive him in the way that was expected or for which the disciples and Jesus had prepared. In short, the Samaritan village said no and set a boundary in that moment for where Jesus and his group of disciples could lay their heads. Two of the disciples get angry immediately, and in their anger, they ask, “Lord, do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?” (verse 54).

This is a wild question. First, if Jesus wanted that to happen, I imagine he could have done it for himself (and it still would not have been right). Second, their immediate response to a boundary or a no was violence toward an entire town. It would not have been the entire town’s decision, yet they were quick to conflate all people—including the elders, the children, those on the margins—with whoever had the power to say no. Finally, their response shows that they didn’t know that no was an option.

Jesus’ response gives us a beautiful insight here. Allowing others to have agency is an act of love. Even though clearly the ideal would have been for Jesus to be invited to rest in the town, as that was what he prepared for, Jesus does not punish their no. He instead rebukes James and John for deeming it appropriate to cause harm because they were inconvenienced. Then they go to another village.

Jesus reminds us that allowing agency and choice is a crucial practice of love. He wanted to go there, and yet their boundary was honored and respected. What was not celebrated and seen as a good choice? The choice to punish, to harm, to destroy in the name of Jesus because the disciples were inconvenienced or thought another choice should have been made. Jesus shows us that allowing space for another to have agency is crucial to a life of love.

It takes more than a click to follow

As the text continues, we become privy to a series of back-and-forth conversations with those naming something about how they want to or will follow Jesus. Jesus responds to these inquiries and declarations that following him will cost them something.

In an age of social media, when following takes no more than a click to see someone and have access to all they have offered for you to follow, we can easily forget that to follow Jesus is not a spectator sport. To follow Jesus requires more than scrolling, and it will cost something. Now naturally, Jesus could let them do these things that feel so crucial and necessary. I would also want to bury my parent or tell my people at home that I was leaving. However, the reason these were recorded was to show that this following is costly and time-sensitive.

I don’t know that I would suggest we should not bury those we have lost in honor or take time to be with family and friends. Yet, thinking that following Jesus and living in a radically loving and wholly inclusive way won’t cost us something is misguided. Jesus is saying, “Do you truly want to follow me in practice, or do you want to be seen following me as perception?”

The work is ahead

“No one who puts their hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God” (verse 62).

As one who loves history, I have often rejected and/or skipped this verse. History and looking back are crucial, in my opinion, to any work going forward. The very study of the Bible is a looking back. The root of liturgical practice through anamnesis is literally an invitation to look back and move ahead. The Sankofa bird quite literally looks back as it moves ahead, so certainly it is possible and important—especially to groups whose history is often erased. So, what is Jesus saying here?

I think this is an invitation to remember that when your hand is on the plow, it’s time to work and move forward. I don’t know that Jesus would say that looking back, particularly under the lens of historical reference and lineage, was wrong and makes anyone ill-equipped to do the work of the kin-dom of God that looks like love, which always looks like justice. I do wonder, however, if Jesus is suggesting that to hold the tools to move forward, while wanting all the benefits of a life you had before this choice, is probably inaccessible. As it takes more than a click to follow, so it takes more than holding the tool to do the work.