
In the wake of the US bombing of Iran, I found myself reflecting on Luke 9:51–56 when Jesus, on his way to Jerusalem, is rejected by a Samaritan village. His disciples, James and John, respond the way we often do when we feel slighted or opposed: “Lord, do you want us to call fire down from heaven to destroy them?” But Jesus turns and rebukes them. And they move on.
There’s something disarming about how quietly this moment unfolds. No fire. No argument. Just a rebuke, and the decision to walk away.
It’s easy to miss how radical this is. The disciples are echoing a tradition: the prophet Elijah calling down fire on the enemies of God. They’re defending their Lord. They’re trying to be faithful. But Jesus won’t have it. He refuses to let loyalty become violence.
I keep thinking about how often we do the same. We dress up retaliation in the language of justice, self-defense, even righteousness. We act as if dropping bombs is a necessary evil, as if it’s just part of how peace is made in the real world. But Jesus keeps saying no. Not like that. Not in my name.
The disciples thought they understood the mission. But they didn’t yet know what spirit they were of. Jesus wasn’t heading to Jerusalem to defeat his enemies. He was going there to die for them.
There are moments when that feels like too much. Too impractical. Too idealistic. But maybe that’s the point. The kingdom of God doesn’t come through the usual channels of power and coercion. It comes through a different kind of strength—the strength to walk away from fire and keep moving toward the cross.







Leave a comment