70 Messengers of Peace

Seventy Messengers of Peace - Luke 10:1–11, 16–20

Last week in the Gospel reading from Luke 9, we found ourselves with Jesus on the road to Jerusalem. It’s a turning point in Luke’s narrative, as Jesus “sets his face” toward Jerusalem. The tone of the narrative shifts. From this point onward in Luke’s Gospel there is an urgency and a resolve in Jesus. But as we saw last week there is also misunderstanding.

As Jesus and his followers pass through a Samaritan village, they are refused hospitality. And James and John—perhaps feeling personally offended, or perhaps righteous in their tribal loyalty—respond with a chilling suggestion:  “Lord, do you want us to call down fire from heaven to consume them?”

Jesus rebukes them. He will have none it. His way will not be the way of violence, retaliation, or coercion.

And that brings us to today’s passage.

If Luke 9 shows us the temptation to destroy what we fear or do not understand, Luke 10 shows us the alternative: the sending out of the seventy (or seventy-two), not to call down fire from heaven, but to be bearers and shareres of the inner Kingdom of the Heart, the Inner Kingdom of Love and Peace… not just peace as social politeness, but peace that comes from a heart and a life rooted in the Eternal where living waters well up with Eternal life and where we are in touch with the peace that passes all understanding. 

This is no small detail. It’s as if Jesus is saying:

“You thought fire and power were the signs of God. But the real revolution, the true sign of God’s kingdom will be people entering homes, sharing food, accepting hospitality, and speaking words of peace.”

As I mentioned last week, we’re living in a time when fire is very much being called down. The fires of war, of fear, of nationalism, of vengeance. We’ve seen cities reduced to rubble, hospitals and schools turned to ash, entire families wiped out in moments—in Gaza, Ukraine, Lebanon, Israel, Iran. The cycle o violence is devastating and seemingly endless. It is violence that flows out of hearts overflowing not with the inner peace of the Divine, but from hearts overflowing with fear, anger, resentment and vengeance. 

And yet, in contrast to the ethnic violent intent of his own disciples James and John, as well as the cycles of violence we see in our own world today, here in this passage we find Jesus sending out disciples two by two, “like lambs among wolves”, to offer the inner Kingdom of peace to all nations – that is the significance of the number 70/72. In the Old Testament this is the number of the totality of the nations. The disciples are to go to all the nations, not to condemn, not to dominate, but to announce that the kingdom of God has come near for indeed it resides in the depth of every human heart waiting to be discovered and brought forth.

In contrast to the desire of James and John to dominate and destroy their perceived enemies in the preceding passage, notice how Jesus sends out the seventy two: No purse. No bag. No sandals. Greet no one on the road.

In other words, they are to go in vulnerability, in trust, with nothing to defend and nothing to prove, while remaining focussed, undistracted from the task before them.

This is radically countercultural. We tend to associate power with being armed, prepared, and in control. But Jesus sends them out disarmed, dependent, and open.  And their message? It’s not “Convert or else.” It’s not “Here’s how to fix your life.” It’s simply: “Peace to this house.”

If that peace is welcomed, it rests there. If not, they are to move on. No manipulation. No forcing. Just peace, the peace of the inner Kingdom of the heart offered freely, and the freedom to walk away without bitterness.

This is mission as mutuality, a sacred encounter between guest and host, where both are changed in the mutual exchange of peace. It is a sharing in communion from the deep inner peace of the soul – the inner kingdom of the heart.

Of course, Jesus acknowledges that not every house will receive peace. Sometimes, the inner door of the heart will stay shut. The openness and welcome will not come from hearts and minds stuck in the ways of the small egoic self.

And in these instances he says:  “Shake the dust from your feet.”

We should not read these words as a curse but rather a gesture of release, a way of saying, “I leave without resentment.” It's a refusal to carry spiritual residue, shame, anger, or rejection, resentment.  How often when we think someone has rejected or slighted us, we chew on it for ages and it seeps into our hearts and into our bones and the anger and resentment begin to rise up within us and we just can’t let it go.  Don’t let this happen to you says Jesus to his disciples. Don’t hang onto the dust of resentment. Don’t let it get a grip on you. Simply shake off the dust from your shoes and move on.  This teaching is echoed in AA spirituality in the phrase: “What other people think of me is none of my business...”  (it’s their business). In other words, shake of the dust and move on. 

And so in the passage, the Kingdom of God comes near, but it is never imposed.

Now, if you’ve read beyond today’s selected verses, you’ll know that in Luke 10:12–15 Jesus speaks some hard words of warning for the towns that do not receive his messengers. 

These harsh-sounding verses, Jesus’ woes to Chorazin, Bethsaida, and Capernaum, can sound like divine threats. But if we are to be consistent in understanding the way of Jesus they should be read more like laments. They’re not curses but warnings. Jesus is naming the path some are walking down, the path of the ego, a path of resistance to peace, resistance to the vulnerable kingdom he’s offering.

And looking back, Luke’s community would have known and seen those consequences unfold. The violent Jewish revolt of 66 AD, and the crushing Roman response, left cities like Jerusalem in ruins. Towns and villages were destroyed. Thousands were killed or displaced.

In these difficult verses from 12-15, Jesus is not threatening judgment from above, but grieving what happens when individuals and whole societies turns from the ways of peace. And that grief echoes painfully in our own day too. When the peace of God’s inner Kingdom is refused, when cycles of vengeance are chosen, we find ourselves weeping over the consequences.

Lastly, after being sent out in this way, the disciples return amazed. Even the demons submit to them. They’ve seen the power of Jesus message of peace flowing through them.

But Jesus cautions them:  “Do not rejoice that the spirits submit to you, but that your names are written in heaven.”

In other words: Don’t measure your worth in your success, your impact, or your status. Your joy is not in power or success, but rather in belonging, in being known, held, and loved by the Source of all life that dwells in the depth of our hearts. 

This is good news for us in a culture obsessed with performance and influence. The deepest joy is not what we do or achieve, but that we are known and loved by God, the Divine Source of Life, that we are in fact children of eternity, that I believe is what the phrase “your names are written in heaven” is pointing to – finding our true identity rooted in the eternal.   

When this happens, then like Jesus says, we will see Satan fall like lightening.  This I believe is symbolic, mythical language that refers to the ego, that false, small self within, the inner voice of separation, accusation, pride, fear, and domination. When we are rooted in our Eternal Inner identify, then we too experience the 

In conclusion our passage today invites us to become bearers and carriers of the inner Kingdom of God’s peace in a world on fire.  And Jesus sends us out as he sent his disciples:  Not with clever arguments or worldly power, but with open hearts and open hands. Not to call down fire, as James and John want to, but to be messengers of peace. In a world that burns with division, vengeance and inhumanity, our challenge and our vocation as followers of Jesus is to carry the cool water of mercy, to be, as Jesus says, lambs amongst wolves, vulnerable messengers of the inner Kingdom of Divine peace.

We might not change the world today. But we might change a conversation. We might ease someone’s burden. We might hold a space for healing.  And when that happens, the kingdom of God has come near.