Before I launch into today’s post, question: How many of you are enjoying my following chronologically through the New Testament? Were you aware that’s what I’ve been doing? (For example, today’s post covers the reading passage for day one of week 31.) I ask because this has been super challenging, y’all! If you’re enjoying this journey and find it helpful, then I’ll keep pushing on. But if you’re not … I might reconsider my content plans. đ Let me know in the comments.
And now back to your regularly schedule post …
When my actions and reactions donât resemble the love and grace of Christ, I know Iâve left my Savior behind. This happens every time I allow my fear and pride, rather than Christ, take the lead. Soon, I develop an us-vs-them mentality. As people become issues, love, that which Christ told us to radiate most clearly, begins to grow cold.Â
Praying through Luke 9 this past week, I sensed God calling me to evaluate my pride-filled Pharisitical tendencies within me. Those times when I serve from a place of superiority, and reveal this in the ugliness that follows. When that sense of superiority entices me to fight for a mound of dirt that isnât worth my, or your, or anyone elseâs time, ignoring the hillâCalvaryâour Savior fixed His gaze upon.
Luke 9:51 records some of the most beautiful words in Scripture: âââAs the time approached for him to be taken up to heaven, Jesus resolutely set out for Jerusalemâ (NIV).
Knowing all Heâd face there, maybe even feeling some of the anguish that would later consume His soul âto the point of deathâ in the Garden, He set walked with determined steps.
And once again, He and His disciples stopped through Samaria along the way. Only this time, they didnât receive the same welcome. In fact, they were rejected, as they had numerous times before.
Only this time, James and John didnât become grieved, as one might expect, considering all the Samaritans were forfeiting. They werenât even annoyed, as can occur with road weary travelers.
No. They became enraged. Murderously, so. âLord,â they said, upon seeing how the Samaritans rejected Christ, âdo you want us to call fire down from heaven to destroy them?â
Am I the only one struck by the sad contrast? The One with every right to obliterate not just the people in that village, but all of mankind as well, was determined to reach Jerusalem, no matter how difficult each step mustâve been.
The hill upon which His love would be vividly displayed–for those who received and rejected Him. The disciples didnât understand that. I suspect they were blinded by pride, thinking they, the chosen ones, had lowered themselves simply to enter that village. Their sense of superiority tainted any love they might otherwise have displayed.
Sadly, pride likely lay at the root of the Samaritanâs actions as well. Scholars remind us they welcomed Christ readily enough when He came âfrom some unknown region of JudĂŠa where He had been baptising (John 3:22; John 4:3).â Knowing He was heading toward Jerusalem, the place the Jews had long contended as the only proper place to worship, however? And not to the temple theyâd built on Mount Gerizzim? Implying that, perhaps, they were wrong?
Unthinkable!
How sad to think their indignation blinded them to the truth Christ had so beautifully proclaimed to the Samaritan woman Heâd met at Jacobâs well, early in His ministry. He didnât come to tell us where to worship but rather Who to worship.
How grieved Jesus mustâve been that day, to see putrid reservoirs of pride well up within hearts on both sides, where streams of living water shouldâve begun to flow.
While Iâve never asked God to obliterate an entire town, Iâve seen my pride repel the very people God died to save.
Lord, remind us, daily, of our need for You, precisely why we need You so desperately, so that our hearts wonât decay from the sin of superiority. Fill us so fully with Your love, only what is good and lovely and pure can remain.Â
For those following the chronological New Testament reading plan …
