Sermon: Calling Down Fire

Our Sunday morning worship this weekend at St. Peter will be led by Christian band New Legacy Project, so this sermon is only for the Saturday night service. This week’s texts are Galatians 5:1, 13-25, Psalm 16, and Luke 9:51-62.

Thanks to Karoline Lewis for her “But first…” post over at Working Preacher as well as to David Lose on his In the Meantime blog.

A few years ago, a man named Jia Jiang did an experiment he called “rejection therapy.” For 100 days, he sought out opportunities to be rejected.

I’ve watched a few of his videos, and he has some ridiculous requests, like asking a complete stranger on the street if he could borrow $100. In one video, he ate a burger at a fast food restaurant and then went to the counter to ask for a “burger refill”–that got him rejected! He was even rejected a few times trying to give $5 bills to random people. His goal was to get so used to people telling him “No” that rejection would no longer bother him.

In today’s gospel reading, Jesus and the disciples get rejected. They enter a Samaritan village, and Luke tells us the people of the village “did not receive him.”

I don’t know exactly what that means. Remember, Samaritans and Jews often didn’t get along very well, so maybe it was just that no one wanted to talk. Maybe Jesus asked for a meal or a place to stay and no one would help him. Whatever it is, these people are not ready for Jesus’ message.

Two of his disciples, James and John, see what happens, and James and John do not react well to rejection. In fact, they seem pretty ticked off at this village. I love how casual their question to Jesus sounds. “Lord, do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?”

Wait, what? Calling down fire from seems like a bit of an overreaction!

Fortunately, burning down this village and all the people in it is too extreme for Jesus too. He rebukes them, and they go on to another village.

I want you all to know I’ve never prayed for God to send fire from heaven to destroy someone. Maybe you have, I don’t know. I hope not.

As much as they’re over-reacting, though, I can understand James and John’s frustration. They know the good Jesus is doing. They know how important his mission is. They’ve caught the vision of God’s kingdom. And so it doesn’t make sense when others don’t understand, when this village rejects him.

We do that too, don’t we? We get upset at people who reject our message. When the people around you don’t care about what you care about, hopefully you don’t want to literally burn them up, but don’t you get frustrated?

I do. It hurts. I get it. I want people to share my passions.

It’s hard when other people don’t make giving to the church as high of a priority as I do. It hurts when I plan an event or activity and people don’t think it’s worth showing up to. It’s hard when I go somewhere on Sunday afternoon, or go to the Legion for dinner after Saturday service and see people who didn’t come to worship. Even when the reasons are legitimate, it’s still a little painful.

Rejection always hurts, but especially when it’s over something as personal as faith. It’s hard when you raise your kids to go to church every week and then they drift away. Sometimes when your family or friends or neighbors don’t come to church, it feels like they’re saying your faith doesn’t matter.

Maybe James and John’s reaction is understandable. Remember, they’ve given up everything to follow Jesus. This matters to them, just like it matters to you and me.

Of course, even though their reaction is understandable, it’s still not right, and Jesus reprimands them for it.

James and John are so wrapped up in how insulted and offended they are, so focused on how this affects them, that it doesn’t occur to them to care about the people in the village, the people they’re offering to casually incinerate. They’re so stuck on the inconvenience caused to them that they commit the sin of failing to see their neighbors as children of God.

That’s a constant temptation for us too, isn’t it? How easy it is to see others only for how they affect us, rather than seeing them as people made in God’s image.

So often the narrative in our country and media encourages us to focus on what we have to lose, on what others are “taking away” from us. I suspect Jesus’ rebuke is for us to be a little less self-centered and a little more willing to give others the benefit of the doubt we would want. A little less willing to call down fire from heaven, and a lot more willing to accept rejection and loss for Jesus’ sake and for the sake of our neighbors.

It’s what Paul says to the Galatians: “The whole law is summed up in a single commandment, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’”

As they’re on the road, someone comes up to Jesus and says, “I will follow you wherever you go.”

That’s good, right? This guy is doing what all of us should be doing as disciples. But then Jesus reads him the fine print. He gives him a glimpse of what being a disciple really looks like. Being a disciple and following Jesus will mean sacrifice and hardship. It’ll involve getting rejected. As Paul says, Jesus calls us to freedom, but our freedom is to be used to become slaves to one another in love.

Jesus calls to someone else and says, “Follow me.” This one responds, “Yes, I will follow. I want to be a disciple. But first, let me go and bury my father.” Another one says, “But first let me say good-bye to my family.”

I struggle with this part of the story, because those both seem like reasonable excuses. And they’re not saying they won’t follow; they just need to take care of some stuff first. They have responsibilities.

But Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem, on his way to the cross, on his way to give his life for the world, and they need to be ready to follow now. Here. Right away. In this time and in this place.




There’s so much wrapped up in “But first…”. By definition, being a disciple means following Jesus. It means recognizing that life is not about us but about Jesus.

It means putting Jesus and those Jesus commands us to love before ourselves. And it can mean both being rejected by this world and rejecting parts of the world that distract us from following Jesus, crucifying to death the selfish passions and desires of the flesh.

We’re really good at finding excuses when Jesus calls us to hard things (at least I am!). Yes, Jesus, I would love to give 10% of my income to you this week, but first let me pay my phone bill. But first I’d like to stop for a burger. Yes, Lord, I really plan to go to church this week, but first let me go get some groceries. But first let me clean the house. Yes, Jesus, I’d like to advocate for your children in need, your children in prison, your children immigrating and crossing borders, but first I have to make sure no one will get offended.

What about you? What are your “But first…’s”?

What things do you put in front of following Jesus?

So often our response to Jesus’ call is close to these people’s “But first” answers, when we should be responding the way the Psalmist does in today’s Psalm. “I keep the LORD always before me; because he is at my right hand, I shall not be moved. Therefore my heart is glad, and my soul rejoices…You show me the path of life. In your presence there is fullness of joy; in your right hand are pleasures forevermore.”

Discipleship is about following Jesus, here, now, and forever.

In his writing, Luke mentions fire coming from heaven one other time: Pentecost. God’s fire from heaven turns out to be the gift of the Holy Spirit. Only through the guidance of the Holy Spirit are we able to move past our objections to follow Jesus. Only when we are led by the Spirit can we live out those fruits of the Spirit.

Imagine if instead of burning those who reject us, we called down the Holy Spirit on them.

Let us pray.
Heavenly Father, thank you for the gift of the Holy Spirit, who calls us to faith and empowers us to follow. Thank you for calling us to be your disciples. Help us to move past those things that distract us, to overcome our fear of rejection and put to death our own selfishness. Help us to love our neighbors as ourselves and to follow your path of life. In Jesus’ name, Amen.